A friend
by Khissy
Summary: The years after Eragon's departure and Galbatorix's death as Murtagh lives them. Light NasuadaXMurtagh. Oneshot.


The sun had just broken over the hills. The large red wings shuddered and unfolded, casting a red light on the ground behind, and the wings illuminated with the brilliance of the sun. Murtagh groaned as he stretched out before standing and giving Thorn a pat on the side, earning him a low sort of purr from the dragon.

Much had changed in the years after Galbatorix had been slain. He hadn't involved himself with people much at first, so much of what had happened during his wanderings with Thorn he dd not learn of until several years later. He learned that Eragon had left for whatever foreign land awaited him to raise the next generation of riders, and several had come forth since. The first Urgal and Dwarven riders had emerged, and after a number of years under the tutelage of the new elf queen and her dragon, prepared to visit Eragon. He'd heard mention of another rider but did not follow through with who the newest rider was. Most of what he heard he gathered from conversations he'd overheard while visiting the occasional town, Thorn staying hidden as not to cause alarm or give away his identity.

He and Thorn spent their time slowly becoming part of the moving world again, at first with a number of flights all over the land, to allow talk of his return to spread through the land. He visited the elves first, attempting to apologize and make what amends he could for his actions. He was met with less resistance and distaste than he imagined, perhaps because he made it clear he had no intention of remaining there for longer than needed to apologize and do what he could for the elves. He eventually did the same for the dwarves, though this time he was met with some hostility. He knew he could never in their eyes atone for what he'd done, but he did all he could to make his mistakes right until, he felt, he'd gained a shred of forgiveness, and if he dared think of it, acceptance. He knew being a part of the world again required him to work long and hard to blot out his past and make a new name for himself. It was straining work, but if he wanted to live with people again, he had to do it, else he might as well have gone back into the wilderness with Thorn.

It went on for years, he and Thorn flying about, slowly turning the fear associated with them into acceptance. It seemed to help that he was unaligned. Some feared him for another crazed rider, but many saw it as a guarantee that he was not out to spy, or attack, or enforce laws. In twenty years, one person remained constantly on his mind, and he knew that after making the amends he could, it was time to visit the High Queen.

He felt his stomach flip over as the grand city came into view. It held so many memories for him, many negative and others confusing, but he did not let the past frighten him away. After a number of hours, and with Thorn settled, he approached the throne room, not knowing what to expect. Upon the throne, he saw Nasuada much as he remembered her, worn from the trials of ruling, but still unmatched in her beauty and commanding presence. He lowered swiftly to a knee, and saw something stir behind her. A mound of deep, glimmering purple sat behind the throne... breathing! It hit him. This was the rider whose name he had neither known nor inquired about.

Murtagh found himself clueless as to what he might say, though it seemed he knew just moments before. Nasuada smiled slightly and stood, drawing closer to Murtagh. The purple dragon opened an eye and peered curiously at him, and kept a close eye on Nasuada. Once the queen stood close to Murtagh, he felt as if they'd never separated from the last time he saw her. She put a hand on his shoulder, as if trying to determine whether he was truly there. Once assured, she removed her hand and smiled warmly.

"I began to wonder if you'd ever visit." She spoke quietly. "Come. I think we have much to discuss."

A tone in her voice made Murtagh's heart fill with a sensation he thought he'd never feel for her again. A sensation he'd felt all those years ago when he held her when she was crying, a feeling he'd often speculated was more the result of needing someone in his dark time, rather than being what it was. But the look in her eyes made all the questioning thoughts disappear. Murtagh smiled gently at her and followed her beckoning, and he knew that, if fate allowed (and he felt for once in his life, it would), he'd found a friend in the Queen, and much more.


End file.
